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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23896924">Lord of the Cats - The Fellowship of the Jellicles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparks_of_Inspiration/pseuds/Sparks_of_Inspiration'>Sparks_of_Inspiration</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cats (2019), Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Violence, Crack, Crack Crossover, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:40:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,485</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23896924</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparks_of_Inspiration/pseuds/Sparks_of_Inspiration</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I made a post on Tumblr about writing a Cats/LOTR crossover to "mess with my followers". It got attention so now I feel obligated to do it.<br/>Rated T because I’m paranoid.</p><p>[This story may update slowly, but it WILL keep updating.]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aragorn | Estel/Arwen Undómiel, Demeter/Munkustrap (Cats), Mr. Mistoffelees/Electra, Mungojerrie/Rumpleteazer (Cats), Old Deuteronomy/Grizabella</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Concerning Jellicles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What's a Jellicle Cat?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This story is largely concerned with Jellicles, and from its pages a reader may discover much of their character and a little of their history. Further information will also be found in the selection from the musical that has already been filmed, under the title of Cats. That story was derived from the collection of poems found in "Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats", composed by T.S. Eliot.</p><p>Many, however, may wish to know more about these remarkable cats from the outset, while some may not have seen the film. For such readers a few notes on the more important points are here collected concerning Jellicle Cats.</p><p>What's a Jellicle cat? The word "Jellicle" originates from a child's mispronunciation of "dear little", but the name took on a life of its own among the dear little cats themselves. Jellicles are a specific clowder of cats who, above all other attributes, are extraordinary dancers and singers. They become entranced when bathed in the light of the Jellicle Moon and dance until the sun peeks over the horizon. Such a festival is known as the "Jellicle Ball", and Jellicles from far and wide will gather annually to partake in the merrymaking. It is somewhat comparable to a New Year's Party, but far more sacred than that. It is a celebration of new life, which the Jellicles honor in three different ways: first, a young couple will be wedded before the gathered crowd, marking the start of their new life together. Second, among the various pairs of cats present, many new lives will be conceived. Third, and the most vitally important, is when older cats each present their life stories (through song and dance, of course!) to the Jellicle Leader, Old Deuteronomy. Just before dawn, once every elder cat has made their case, Old Deuteronomy will then choose one of them only to send to the Heaviside Layer to be reborn into a new and different Jellicle life. Old Deuteronomy, the wisest of all cats, is experienced in matters of spirituality due to his incredible longevity; he is an ancient and immortal cat that has lived many lives in succession, and founded the Jellicle Clan in a time longer ago than any cat or human can remember. He is what is known as a Mystical Cat, or a cat that has some amount of magic in them. Mystical Cats are sporadically born with varying degrees of power that can be used to either a constructive or destructive end, as the reader will soon see.</p><p>Jellicles will also hold smaller, less significant balls whenever they like for any reason they please. They do not even require a ball to dance or sing, though this is less common due to their preference for preserving their energy for the more important occasions.</p><p>Jellicle Cats have smaller litters than normal cats, with no more than three kittens being born at the same time. They also age at a much slower rate and live longer lives as a result.</p><p>To end this brief introduction, here is presented "The Song of the Jellicles", a piece that every Jellicle Cat knows by heart from the time they are very small.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Jellicle Cats are black and white,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jellicle Cats are rather small;</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jelly Cats are merry and bright</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And pleasant to hear when they caterwaul.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jellicle Cats have cheerful faces,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jellicle Cats have bright black eyes;</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They like to practise their airs and graces</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And wait for the Jellicle Moon to rise.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Jellicle Cats develop slowly,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jellicle Cats are not too big;</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jellicle Cats are roly-poly,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They know how to dance a gavotte and a jig.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Until the Jellicle Moon appears</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They make their toilette and take their repose;</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jellicles wash behind their ears,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jellicles dry between their toes.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Jellicle Cats are white and black,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jellicle Cats are of moderate size;</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jellicles jump like a jumping-jack,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jellicle Cats have moonlit eyes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They're quiet enough in the morning hours,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They're quiet enough in the afternoon,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Reserving their terpsichorean powers</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To dance by the light of the Jellicle Moon.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Jellicle Cats are black and white,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jellicle Cats (as I said) are small;</em>
</p><p>
  <em>If it happens to be a stormy night</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They will practise a caper or two in the hall.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>If it happens the sun is shining bright</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You would say they had nothing to do at all:</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They are resting and saving themselves to be right</em>
</p><p>
  <em>For the Jellicle Moon and the Jellicle Ball.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Jellicle Cats come out tonight</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jellicle Cats come one, come all:</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The Jellicle Moon is shining bright--</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball.</em>
</p><p>                                                ~T.S. Eliot</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-JBHBS6uPI</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A Long-Expected Ball</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The story begins.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Bustopher Jones announced that he would shortly be celebrating his birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in the whole of St. James and beyond.</p><p> </p><p>Bustopher was very rich and very rotund, and had been a wonder to all of felinity for quite a long while. Not only was there the immense size of his wealth and appetite, but also his prolonged vigour to marvel at. Day by day he gained weight, but it seemed to have little effect on his vivacity. At fifteen pounds he was much the same as at eight pounds. At twenty pounds they began to call him well-preserved, and he would say it was due to his lifelong observation of routine. Though Mr. Jones could oftentimes be irritatingly proper and pompous, he was very generous with his wealth and his food, and for that he had many devoted admirers among cats of both high society as well as poor and unimportant families.</p><p> </p><p>     There were two reasons Bustopher was planning to make this particular birthday more extravagant than all the others: the foremost being that he had reached a whopping twenty-five pounds, a weight reached by no other cat who wasn't a Maine Coon. The second reason was Bustopher intended to leave, and he was not sure how long it would be before he returned (if he returned at all), so it only seemed fair that he should give the community one last chance to feast with him before he was gone. Afterwards he would set off to go see his sister again, who had long ago gone back to live with her father. The last time Bustopher had seen her she had been practically a kitten still, and he wondered how much she had grown and how well she had fared in the time since. She was such a great deal younger than him that he found himself viewing her as more of a daughter than as a sister, and worrying for her as a father would--<em>especially</em> since the circumstances of their last interaction were much less than ideal.</p><p> </p><p>     She had once been incorrigibly adventurous, and it had irked Bustopher to no end; after all, she had a reputation to uphold for the dignified Jones family! But nowadays he would much rather have that rambunctious little kitten she had once been instead of the haunted and skittish shadow he had last seen. On what ended up being the last of her escapades she had gone deep into the Old Forest, farther than any other cat of their kind dared to stray, and disappeared for many weeks. The ongoing search for her had yielded no results, not even the faintest trace of a scent, as if she’d simply evaporated. Bustopher had started to think that he would never see her again when she suddenly showed up at his window in the dead of night, appearing to have run for several miles straight. He could get very little out of her; whenever he asked she would begin to tremble in a panicked frenzy, eyes and ears darting and twitching in every direction. All he managed to get from her was that she had been kidnapped and held against her will by a strange cat unlike any other she had seen. He was very large, most likely at least partially Maine Coon, with fur that glowed like a blazing flame. She had no doubt that the mystery cat possessed powerful magic, and was surprised she had finally been able to escape him; she didn’t think her freedom would last, and wanted to go back to her father’s home where she knew it was safe.</p><p>    One singular kitten, a frail and feeble runt, was born to her as a result of her kidnapping. She begged Bustopher not to claim the kitten as his nephew; she left it at the doorstep of <em>The Egyptian</em> theater and did not want anyone to know it was hers, lest she be treated or remembered as an object of pity. Though it broke Bustopher's heart to leave the kitten alone, he agreed, allowing the cats at <em>The Egyptian</em> to look after his nephew instead. That did not stop him from keeping an eye on the kitten, however.</p><p>The little black kitten had been named Quaxo by the cats at <em>The Egyptian</em>; it came from the Latin <em>coaxo</em>, which means “to croak”, since he could hardly make more than a short croak of sound as a newborn. Even after he outgrew this, the tiny kitten was still known for having a very quiet demeanor. Quaxo’s dark coat, small stature, and muted mien allowed him to blend in with shadows easily, and as such he was often unintentionally overlooked by the other cats. He garnered a reputation for causing mischief and confusion, with various items inexplicably going missing and turning up in the strangest places. The kitten himself seemed to also appear and disappear unexpectedly, and the residents of <em>The Egyptian</em> tried to attribute it to how incredibly quiet he was; but that explanation fell short when it came to instances where he could be heard in a place that, as far as anyone else could tell, was completely vacant, or he would suddenly disappear in a place where there was absolutely nowhere he could have hidden. The eccentric little cat had earned the nickname "Mister Mistoffelees" due to his antics, and Quaxo was delighted by it.</p><p>He found that the only time he was given any attention was when he did strange or mystifying things, so he taught himself all manner of tricks he could with cards, dice, or even simple sleight of hand, turning his reputation into an act as the “Magical Mister Mistoffelees”, which was first popular with kittens—all of whom were younger than him—but eventually his act won over the hearts of the adults as well.</p><p>Bustopher visited <em>The Egyptian</em> periodically. The cats there always loved when he came, for he always brought with him a great deal of food and treats. The kittens liked to call him “Uncle Bustopher”, and he appreciated the title: it was a formal address that gave him the respect he was due, but it was also an affectionate title that meant they loved him as well.</p><p> </p><p>     Eventually Bustopher found himself faced with a problem: he had no kittens of his own, which would make little Quaxo his heir, but he could not claim him as such due to his promise to his sister; yet if he <em>didn't</em> claim the kitten then his closest heir as far as everyone else was concerned was one of the Sackville-Joneses, a most detestable family of cats that Bustopher had the misfortune of being related to. After much arguing back and forth with himself, Bustopher decided that instead of claiming the kitten as his nephew, he would legally adopt him as his heir and bring him to live at Pall Mall. "You had better come and live here, my lad," said Bustopher one day, "since we tuxedos ought to stick together, you know." And so the hopes of the Sackville-Joneses were finally dashed.</p><p> </p><p>    Quaxo was thrilled, and despite his reputation for mischief he was very receptive to learning the ways of a proper gentlecat. He immediately and excitedly adapted every manner of etiquette Bustopher showed him, becoming neat and poised in a rather short amount of time. He was finally getting the attention he craved and didn’t want to do anything that might spoil it.</p><p>            Bustopher enjoyed playing cards and dice with Quaxo, and indulged him in the little magic tricks he did as well. Bustopher enjoyed the latter a bit less than the others, as any mention of magic made his mind wander back to his sister’s description of her attacker; but he humored the kitten nonetheless, for if Quaxo wasn’t talking about a new trick he had learned or invented he had little interest in talking at all. The magic tricks were just a hobby that the kitten loved, Bustopher would reason with himself, nothing more than a little game to him. But he could not keep himself convinced for very long.</p><p>            Even among Jellicle cats Quaxo was a remarkably elegant dancer, most especially when it came to his spins. He loved to dance fouettés, and would perform many of them consecutively, adding more and more turns the better he got. It was because of this that Bustopher found himself concerned; when the kitten would spin an electricity would fill the air, so much so that Bustopher would find his neat black coat sticking straight out at all angles, and should he try to touch anything his paws would be met with a static shock. Most concerning to him was that if Quaxo spun enough times, the kitten’s coat would glisten and glow with little sparks of electricity, and Bustopher would think of the bright flaming coat his sister described. Bustopher decided that it must have been static from Quaxo’s fur rubbing against the carpet, but he did not fully believe it.</p><p>            When the two of them would go for a stroll and happen upon a cat that Quaxo did not want to talk to, the kitten would inexplicably vanish; one moment he’d be right by his uncle’s side, but when Bustopher would look at him the next moment he’d be nowhere to be found. No noise, nowhere nearby he could possibly be hiding, and nowhere near enough time for him to have run off out of sight. As soon as the other cat would be out of Bustopher’s sight, he would find Quaxo just as inexplicably by his side again. If Quaxo truly was a mystical cat, Bustopher was not sure he would really know what to do about it. For the time being he chose to shove all of those worries to the back of his mind.</p><p>***</p><p>            Bustopher was not lying when he said it would be a party of special magnificence. The amount of food laid out for the guests was <em>three times </em>the size of the largest feast he had given in the past, and <em>that</em> one had been considered excessive! For this party there was twelve gallons of rice pudding, seventeen sheep’s worth of mutton, a riverful of caviar, twenty-five potted grouse, an entire butt of cream, fifty-seven cans of salmon paste, sixty-four Strasbourg pies, and many more foodstuffs beyond even that. Bustopher ordered three fifteen-foot carpeted towers specially for the occasion, which he considered to be an act of tremendous sacrificial generosity toward his guests since he could not enjoy them himself without toppling them over. Every inch of the area was adorned with the finest ribbons and flowers he could find so that the event was a feast for the eyes as much as the stomach.</p><p>            On top of all that, Mr. Jones had invited the Jellicle Leader, Old Deuteronomy. A chance to see the immortal and mystical cat was a rare one, since he was ancient and slow in his movement and chose all of his journeys carefully. Even if cats did see him, they might not always realize that they had; he had a humble and unassuming appearance that often caused him to be mistaken for some unimportant yet kindly old stray. The only thing about Old Deuteronomy that made him stand out at a glance was his enormous size: being a Maine Coon meant that he was large in build and his long grey coat only served to make him look larger. In Bustopher’s mind, such a large and respected cat was a perfect fit for the occasion.</p><p>As Deuteronomy made his measured way towards Bustopher’s birthday ball, various cats looked on in awe and disbelief, whispering to themselves and each other in excitement.</p><p>            “Well, of all things!”</p><p>            “Can it be really?”</p><p>            “Yes!”</p><p>            “No!”</p><p>            “Oh, hi!”</p><p>            “Oh, my eye!”</p><p>            “My mind may be wandering, but I confess, I believe it is Old Deuteronomy!”</p><p>            As is to be expected of Jellicles, there was a prodigious amount of dancing. While neither the Jellicle Leader nor Mr. Jones had the physical prowess to dance anymore, they both enjoyed watching the proceedings from a seat of honor and engaging with those around them. Quaxo enthusiastically participated in the festivities, many times unintentionally clearing the dance floor as the other cats stopped to admire his remarkable skill and elegant movement. The attention and praise made the little black cat giddy with delight, but also quite exhausted. When partnered dances were announced it seemed to him to be the perfect opportunity for a break. As cats milled about asking each other for a dance, Quaxo slunk over to one of the food tables, unnoticed by all but one.</p><p>            “Mister Mistoffelees!” a sweet voice piped up beside him. It was little Jemima, the youngest kitten from <em>The Egyptian </em>and the only cat smaller than him. Quaxo gave her a smile.</p><p>            “That’s not my real name,” he said in reply, “call me Quaxo.”</p><p>            “Okay, Mister Quaxo!” Little Jemima said, “go on and ask Electra for a dance!”</p><p>            Quaxo’s eyes grew wide and his ears flattened against his head. He stole a quick glance over to the dancefloor at the cat in question, then hurriedly regained his composure the best he could as he turned back to Jemima.</p><p>            “No,” he said, starting to move away, “I think I shall have some champagne instead.”</p><p>            “Oh, no you don’t!” the tiny kitten squeaked as she yanked on his tail, spinning him around with a surprising amount of strength and shoving him directly into Electra’s arms. Jemima giggled into her paws as she sat back and watched them dance; Quaxo’s movement was as practiced and refined as ever, but there was a stiffness to him that was an obvious attempt to conceal how flustered he was.</p><p>            Jemima’s view of the two cats was abruptly upended as she was suddenly launched forward, the table and food following after her. Claws out and hissing at any potential threat, she rapidly looked around for the cause of her flight. Several cats had barreled right through the table and were still rampaging about the scene, gaining more and more cats as they went. A mysterious vibrant spark of red light was frantically darting in all directions, and every time a cat was certain they’d finally caught it it would somehow slip right out of their grip without any effort at all. It accrued a larger and larger queue of cats by the second with a trail of destruction in their wake until it finally made a mad dash to the top of one of the carpeted towers. All at once cats clawed their way up, not realizing their mistake until the whole thing toppled over and crashed into pieces onto the dance floor.</p><p>            Old Deuteronomy watched with concern as he sat on the sidelines, forgotten for the moment in all the chaos. The mysterious light had disappeared, and cats were scrambling all about in their confusion. At the very least, Deuteronomy was able to take comfort in the fact that it appeared no one had been injured. As he observed the ongoing pandemonium, he heard from somewhere behind him a wicked giggle that was quickly shushed. Immediately suspicious, he quietly began making his way in the direction of the sound.</p><p>            “Did you see that? It was amazing!” he heard a voice whisper.</p><p>            “Of course I saw it, I’m the one with the wand!” another said in reply.</p><p>            “That’s one of the best things you ever nicked from a house!”</p><p>            “Oh, yeah, absolutely. That was good!”</p><p>            “Let’s get another one!”</p><p>            The conversation was cut short as the two cats both felt a claw pierce through one of their ears. Old Deuteronomy looked down at their guilty faces with an amused smile.</p><p>            “Mungojerrie,” he said, “and Rumpleteazer. I might have known!”</p><p>            “I wish you mightn’t have,” said Rumpleteazer.</p><p>            “You two are going to be spending the rest of the evening by my side as you clean up the mess you’ve made, starting with reassembling the tower you toppled,” Deuteronomy said, dragging them towards the center area.</p><p>            “It wasn’t us, we weren’t even near it when it fell over!” Mungojerrie protested. Deuteronomy raised an eyebrow.</p><p>            “I have lived a <em>very</em> long time, Mungojerrie, and I am familiar with wands like the one you hold,” he said, chuckling at the way the two calicos slumped and pouted in defeat.</p><p>***</p><p>            When the time finally came for Bustopher to embark on his journey, he called the entire party to attention for his farewell speech.</p><p>            “My dearest and most esteemed Jellicles,” he began as the crowd cheered, “first and foremost, I wish to thank you all for joining me in celebrating both the anniversary of my birth as well as the enormity of my girth.” A mix of laughter and cheers followed.</p><p>“It has been an immense pleasure living among you all, and I hope that one day I shall return to the ever-lovely Pall Mall.” The cats in the crowd from Pall Mall cheered at that.</p><p>“And while I have loved living among such excellent and admirable Jellicles,” he continued, “I regret to announce that I must be going now. I have family matters I must attend to.” A disappointed hum came from the gathered cats, and Bustopher held up a paw to silence them. “I shall be off now, and I wish you all a very fond farewell. Toodle-pip!”</p><p>            At that last word there was a sudden blast of light where he stood that sent the entire party springing into the air out of surprise. The flash of light was only there for a millisecond, but when it was gone, the space Bustopher had occupied was empty; he had quite literally disappeared into thin air. The ball dissolved into pandemonium once again with cats questioning, arguing, and searching all over. At first it was suggested that it might be a stunt by the Magical Mister Mistoffelees and the guests began looking for him, but it quickly turned up that no one had seen Quaxo for at least an hour, so it couldn’t have been him. With no other explanation making itself apparent, the Jellicles all turned to Old Deuteronomy for possible answers. The elderly cat was swarmed by the other guests, and he did his best to placate them in their panic and their pleading. Little Jemima also wanted to know what the Jellicle Leader had to say but could not hear him over all the rumpus, much less see him past all of the cats crowded around. The tangle of Jellicles was so thick that even with her tiny body Jemima could not slip through the mob. Sighing, the tiny kitten gave up and plodded away from the commotion to sulk.</p><p>As she sat at the edge of the clearing she looked up towards the moon, searching for the familiar comfort of its soft, shining gaze. There were dark spots on that pale sphere that always looked to her as if the moon had a smiling face, and she always liked to imagine that she and it were friends.</p><p>Jemima’s reverie was interrupted when she heard a sound nearby. It was faint, but she <em>definitely</em> had heard it, despite seeing nothing when she looked in its direction. She wasn’t about to turn away and ignore it now that her interest had been piqued, so she continued staring in the direction of the noise, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever it was. Finally her eyes were drawn to a very slight movement, and it was then she found the source of the sound: a growing trail of gentle pawprints being made in the dirt with no cat in sight to make them, padding their way away from the party.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HJKpfRhvf_4</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Cat So Clever</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bustopher Jones sets off on his journey and Old Deuteronomy has a very important discussion with Quaxo.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know Bustopher Jones is supposed to be a street cat but screw it he has a house now</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Though Bustopher Jones had persistently disregarded any thoughts he had that his nephew might be a mystical cat, as he now leaned against the wall of his home huffing and puffing after having been instantaneously teleported, there was no denying it. With all his suppressed suspicions officially made reality, his mind reeled with relentless worries:<em> What were the guests back at the party thinking? How badly would this affect the reputation of the Jones family? Could Quaxo be a danger to others? Could he be a danger to himself? Would he be in danger from outside forces? Would the family name be able to recover from this, or would they be considered the subject of scandal forever?</em> The more he wondered about it the worse his worries got, and he panted and paced with his tail whipping wildly.</p><p>A slight creaking sound caught his attention and he stopped, looking up just as the cat flap flipped up and down on its own. There was a beat of silence as he stared at the empty space before it was immediately filled with a beaming Quaxo, having appeared out of thin air and bouncing on the balls of his feet.</p><p>“I suppose you think that was terribly clever!” Bustopher burst out indignantly. Quaxo nodded vigorously with a smile wide enough to rival the Cheshire Cat’s.</p><p>“Oh! Well, I never…!” Bustopher groaned, putting a paw to his forehead as he ungracefully sat down. Quaxo quickly reached out in concern, his smile gone, but Bustopher held up a paw to stop him. He took a few deep breaths while his nephew waited patiently before he finally spoke again.</p><p>“Listen here, my lad,” he said, “if you’re going to have magic powers, they should <em>not</em> be used frivolously or taken lightly. Why <em>did</em> you do that? Did you not realize the potential scandal the Jones family could be caught up in? Explain yourself!” Quaxo’s eyes were round and his ears flat against his head as he attempted to respond, but his words came out as nothing more than a gentle murmur.</p><p>“Speak up, boy!” Bustopher said sharply, “did I not teach you to always speak clearly and eloquently, as any proper gentlecat should?” At this the little black cat shrunk low to the ground, backing up slightly.</p><p>“I…” he said, his voice faltering, “I once…teleported…into the neighbor’s house. Accidentally! I…I’ve never been able to…<em>replicate</em> it, though I’ve tried. It—it takes a great deal of magic to accomplish, I had to work myself into a frenzy doing turns to do it tonight, and I made myself invisible while I did because I wanted it to be a surprise—invisibility I can do much more easily, you see—and I wanted to prove to myself that I really <em>could</em> do it. But I—I also wanted you to be able to have the chance to leave on your journey without being hounded and hindered by your admirers, which is why I teleported <em>you</em> specifically.”</p><p>Quaxo spoke so quickly that Bustopher could not comprehend a great deal of what he said, but his ears did manage to catch the last sentence clearly.</p><p>“You wanted to help me, you say?” he said slowly, trying to understand.</p><p>“I…yes. I thought, you know, when it comes to it, you don’t want to be bogged down by a bunch of busybodies when you’ve got to be off somewhere, and if, perhaps, your admirers and other guests didn’t know where you were, you know, you could set all of your affairs in order in private and proceed without distraction,” the little cat explained. As Bustopher looked at his nephew, he could see the worry and disappointment on his face and a plea for approval in his eyes. At this he felt a twinge of guilt for speaking so harshly and made sure to consider his words carefully before he spoke again.</p><p>“That was…very kind of you to do that for me, my lad. Now that you’ve explained it, I suppose that it will aid in expediting this whole process, and I thank you for that,” he said. He grit his teeth, not wanting to compliment his nephew’s magic, but the hopeful expression on the little cat’s face goaded him on. “And…it was a remarkable trick you performed, to make me turn up here as you did.” At that Quaxo’s face lit up, and Bustopher found himself simultaneously delighting in and cringing at it.</p><p>“I would prefer if you asked me first, however,” he added quickly, and the little cat smiled sheepishly as he turned away, scratching behind his ear, “And I do wish it hadn’t been in front of all the guests; dealing with all the talk about it may get rather messy.” Bustopher sighed and put a paw on Quaxo’s shoulder, forcing him to look back up at him.</p><p>“I beg you, my lad, please try to be discrete and exiguous in all things mystical. It could very easily lead you into trouble, and, as I am leaving, I will not be here to help you if it does.” His nephew stared at him for a moment and said nothing, a sober expression on his face.</p><p>“You said you were going to visit your sister,” he suddenly said, “but you’ve rarely ever spoken of her, whom I suppose would be considered my aunt due to your adoption of me. If you would oblige me, I’d like to know about her before you go.”</p><p><em>Aunt indeed!</em> thought Bustopher, but he dared not say it out loud. He nodded absently as he gathered his words, cautious to avoid anything that might break his promise to his sister before he finally began to speak.</p><p>“She is…a great deal younger than I am, closer in age to you than I, and very petite; quite the opposite of me in that regard! What she and I have got in common, though, is that we both take after our mother. It’s the fastidious Jones family look, you know, with a sleek black coat and a white bib; but unlike myself and much like our mother, her coat is brindled with gold—a tortoiseshell pattern, as it is often called. The last time I saw her she was practically still a kitten, but even then she had already garnered a reputation for her incredible elegance and beauty. Par for the course for a Jones, you know,” he explained, staring off into a distance that wasn’t there.</p><p>“Why did she leave?” Quaxo asked. The question threw Bustopher into a brief moment of inward panic as half of the answer stared back at him expectantly. How could he answer that question without breaking his oath? He had to come up with <em>something!</em></p><p>“She…wished to go and live with her father,” he finally said. <em>That should work</em>, he thought, <em>it is simple and honest enough.</em></p><p>“What is her name?” Quaxo asked after a silence, and Bustopher looked up at him as if coming out of a deep reverie.</p><p>“Demeter,” he answered, “her name is Demeter.” A nod was the only response he received, and all was silent again as the two cats reflected on all that had transpired.</p><p>The moment was interrupted as once again came the sound of the cat flap. Uncle and nephew turned in time to see Bustopher’s butler, Maître D’, push his way through into the foyer. He gave a yelp upon seeing the two tuxedos standing before him, his eyes quickly flying to the clock. Maître D’ was himself a tuxedo cat, with irregular patches of white around his face, and his form was short and round—though nowhere <em>near</em> as round as his master. His mouth moved wordlessly for a moment before he finally managed to speak.</p><p>“Goodness gracious, sir, forgive me! Here I was, thinking I was arriving early to assist you in your departure, and yet here you already are! My sincerest apologies, sir, I didn’t know you would be back here so soon!”</p><p>“Neither did I,” Bustopher said with a sideways glance at Quaxo, who looked away while theatrically feigning cluelessness. The butler glanced between the two of them with an utterly lost expression until his master finally took pity on him.</p><p>“No, it is no fault of yours, Maître D’, there was an unexpected change of plans that you could not possibly have known about,” Bustopher said, grabbing his walking stick, which was a gilded silver spoon, and swatting his nephew lightly with it.</p><p>“Is everything alright, sir?” Maître D’ asked cautiously.</p><p>“Yes, yes, quite alright. Have you confirmed all the arrangements? At <em>Blimp’s</em>? <em>The Pot Hunter</em>?”</p><p>“Yes, sir, all is set and eagerly awaiting your arrival!”</p><p>“Good, good! Then all is in order. Quaxo!” The young ward jumped to attention at his guardian’s call.</p><p>“Take care of yourself, my lad,” Bustopher said gently, “you are a very clever cat, Quaxo, and we shall see each other again soon, I am sure. Toodle-pip, my dear boy.”</p><p>“Toodle-pip,” Quaxo replied, nodding and beaming, and the two of them saluted each other fondly.</p><p>Maître D’ helped his master through the cat flap as Quaxo watched with a feeling a fading warmth. He stood staring until everything was still, a strange and sad sort of silence surrounding him as he did. It was then, with all the excitement gone and nothing left to distract his attention, that he became acutely aware of just how much energy his magic stunt had drained from him.</p><p> <em>I ought to go lay down,</em> he thought hazily, but he could not even stumble through one step before his legs buckled beneath him and the world went black.</p><p>***</p><p>The warm, rough feeling of another cat’s tongue on his forehead gently goaded Quaxo back to consciousness. Drowsily he began to purr in contentment, pleased with the placid method of awakening. That is, of course, until he regained his senses enough to remember where he was and the events leading up to his unintended nap, which then led him to the realization that he had no idea just <em>who </em>it was that was grooming him. Cautiously he cracked open an eye to get a peek at the cat above him but found that his vision was obscured entirely by a great grey cloud.</p><p>“I was worried about you, little one,” a deep voice purred, and Quaxo’s eyes shot open all the way as he scrambled to his feet bowing, regretting it as the blood rushed to his head.</p><p>“O-Old Deuteronomy, sir!” he said breathlessly, swaying on his feet. Deuteronomy chuckled quietly as he sat back.</p><p>“Thank you kindly for such an enthusiastic welcome, young Master Jones,” he said, “how are you feeling?”</p><p>“I—well, thank you. And yourself?” Quaxo replied automatically. Deuteronomy was quiet for a moment as he looked at the little cat consideringly.</p><p>“Truthfully, I am concerned,” he sighed, “please tell me honestly, how are you feeling?”</p><p>“I…” Quaxo stammered, taken aback, “I feel…tired.”</p><p>“Drained?” Deuteronomy offered. The young cat pondered the suggestion for a moment before nodding his head in agreement and plopping down to the floor. Deuteronomy hummed as if his thoughts had been confirmed.</p><p>“It was that trick you performed,” he said, “with a feat of magic like that, I was not surprised to find you unconscious.”</p><p>“What—how—how did you…?” was all that Quaxo could eke out in his bewilderment.</p><p>“Do not forget, young Master Jones, that <em>I too </em>am a mystical cat. I can sense your power, and I know the effect magic use has on a cat. I do not think that you fully understand the enormity of the feat which you accomplished tonight. It takes a prodigious amount of power and skill to teleport even a small object from one place to another, but to do it with a living thing the size of <em>your uncle</em> is something else altogether. And being that you yourself are so small, I knew it must have taken a tremendous toll on you. I could not leave you alone with a clear conscience,” the Jellicle Leader explained. Quaxo stared at him with wide eyes for a long time before absentmindedly forcing himself to nod. He tried to think of anything he could say as an appropriate response, but his mind was so overwhelmed with all the new information as well as the events of that night that it seemed there was no room left in it for thinking of engaging dialogue. With a sigh he gave up, instead halfheartedly mumbling,</p><p>“Bustopher’s not really my uncle. It’s just a nickname. All the kittens call him that.” A look of surprise and mild confusion spread across Deuteronomy’s face at the sudden change of subject, then at the meaning of the words themselves.</p><p>“Is that so?” he said. “I had sensed a much closer bond between you two, as in one of blood. Your lack of relation to each other is strange.” Quaxo shrugged.</p><p>“Well, I live with him, and I am legally his heir. Perhaps it comes from that,” he said. Old Deuteronomy stared at him with a disbelieving look for a long moment that made Quaxo turn away sheepishly, feeling almost as though he was being scanned. Finally Deuteronomy relented, shaking his head with a quiet hum, and moved on to talk about something else.</p><p>“The overextension of your magic is not the only reason I am concerned, young Master Jones,” he said. The little black cat gulped as his ears turned back in the Jellicle leader’s direction. When he said nothing in response, the old cat continued. “You and I are not the only mystical cats in the world, and not all mystical cats use their powers for good. In fact, far too many do not.” At this Quaxo looked up with a grimace.</p><p>“I’m not going to turn evil,” he said a little defensively, “it was…just a silly trick. I’ll not do it again.”</p><p>“That is not what I meant,” Old Deuteronomy said slowly, “there are many mystical cats who use their magical abilities to gain power and control over other cats. They work together to increase their might even more, conquering territories throughout the land and terrorizing the cats living there into submission. They are false rulers who crave domination like a drug, and they are ruthless and uncompromising in their search for more power. If they learned of a new mystical cat with an immense amount of magic, they would seek him out to make him one of their ranks.” He gave a pointed look at Quaxo, who felt a chill run down his spine as he realized the implications of what the old cat was saying. He opened his mouth several times in attempts to speak, but his throat felt constricted with fear and nothing more than a little croak made it past his lips. The Jellicle Leader looked down at him with a deeply empathetic gaze and began to groom the top of his head again while purring to calm him down. After some time Quaxo managed to say softly,</p><p>“I won’t do it again. I won’t use magic again, nor give performances, not even for tricks that are simple illusions and don’t <em>need</em> magic,” his heart ached as he said it, as it was the only way other cats had ever paid him any attention at all and it felt as if his entire world was crashing down around him, “I’ll lay low, and never speak of it again. Staying silent and going unnoticed should not prove too difficult, as I have always done it even without meaning to. Then, in that way, none of those evil cats will know I’m here, will they?” At his last words Deuteronomy stopped purring.</p><p>“Will they, Old Deuteronomy?” he asked again nervously, his panic once more rising at the lack of confirmation. The old cat gave him a sorrowful look that held millennia of unfortunate knowledge behind it, and Quaxo’s heart sank as his panic rose further.</p><p>“I told you before that, as a mystical cat, I am able to sense your magic. That does not only apply to me. With such a powerful blast of magic as it took for you to perform that trick tonight, the ripple of magic from it would have been felt by mystical cats far and wide with you at its epicenter. Considering how they usually operate, they are already on their way here,” he said dolefully. Quaxo’s breath caught in his throat and his ears went flat against his head. He could feel electric jolts in his spine and in his paws, but he could do nothing to control them.</p><p>“I don’t suppose they would leave me alone if I declined to join them?” he managed in a voice barely above a whisper, his front paws nervously kneading. The Jellicle Leader gave a heavy sigh.</p><p>“No, they would not. There is an ancient and terrible spell that is used to compel cats into doing the caster’s bidding, and many of the mystical cats among their ranks are there because they were subjected to this treatment. It is said that no cat who hears it is able to resist. The most well-known user of this spell is Firefrorefiddle the Fiend of the Fell, but he has only been <em>granted</em> the ability of using it; its origin is found in his master, the self-proclaimed ‘Prince of Cats’—or ‘Lord of the Cats’—and wearer of the Golden Collar: Tevildo,” Deuteronomy said. Quaxo looked up in shock.</p><p>“Tevildo is <em>real?</em>” he cried in disbelief, “I thought he was nothing more than a scary story for kittens!”</p><p>“I wish he was,” Deuteronomy said gravely, “long has he and his ilk resented me and the power I hold. Quaxo—Quaxo, you must stop!” Little sparks of electricity were now beginning to crackle from the little black cat’s claws and all along his coat, making it glow.</p><p>“I-I can’t!” Quaxo cried, “I can’t control it! It doesn’t—it doesn’t always—it doesn’t always do what I want it to!” At this revelation Deuteronomy put a paw on Quaxo’s head, causing his long bushy coat to stick straight out from the static; but Quaxo felt a warm sense of peace emanating from the Jellicle Leader’s paw, traveling down his spine to the tips of his toes and tail and enveloping him in a calm that quickly made the sparks disappear and Deuteronomy’s coat settle.</p><p>“I should not be using my magic,” the old cat said softly, “but I had to, for your safety. It is troubling to learn that your magic is unstable in such a way that you do not always have complete command of it. You cannot stay here any longer if you are to avoid being found. Do you know where the Russel Hotel is?”</p><p>“Uncle Bustopher mentioned it quite a few times, so I think I’ve got an idea of its whereabouts,” Quaxo said with more confidence than he felt.</p><p> “On the backside of that building there is a junkyard, and within it, diagonally opposite from the corner of the hotel, is an inn for cats called <em>The Gumbie Cat’s Cradle</em>. The owner of the inn is a cat named Jennyanydots; you should go there and tell her that I sent you.” Deuteronomy explained.</p><p>“What about you?” Quaxo asked, “why can’t you come with me?”</p><p>“I will meet you there as soon as I can, Quaxo, I promise, but Tevildo’s servants would recognize me, and if you were with me it would make you suspect and put you in great danger. I also think it would be wise if I consulted with my eldest son Macavity. He is a mystical cat as well, and his power manifests rather similarly to yours. I have not seen him in a long time, however, so hopefully he will be available as he is often not there. If, by chance, you should  run into him as you travel, speak to him and he will help you,” Deuteronomy said.</p><p>“How would I know if it was him?” Quaxo asked.</p><p>“Trust me, there is no other cat quite like him,” Old Deuteronomy answered with a fond chuckle, “he is very tall and thin, with wild, blazing red fur the likes of which I have never seen anywhere else. You would know him if you saw him.”</p><p>“A-alright,” Quaxo said, overwhelmed and unsure, “shall I…be off, then?” The ancient cat gave him a warm smile.</p><p>“You must know that you are a very clever cat, Quaxo,” he said, “and I have faith that you will make it safely to the inn. Do not doubt yourself, Master Jones. All will be well.” Even though he was spiraling from that night’s deluge of life-altering revelations, the little black cat found himself genuinely smiling back. The Jellicle Leader radiated warmth and comfort that was impossible to resist, and he needed no magic to do it.</p><p>A noise just outside the door immediately shattered their good spirits.</p><p>“Hide,” Old Deuteronomy whispered, and Quaxo quickly darted behind a nearby trunk and curled himself as tightly into the shadows as he could. Deuteronomy quietly crept toward the cat flap, listening intently for any other noise as he grew closer. When he finally reached the door he stood still for a moment, waiting to see if something else would happen. His ears twitched at a slight shuffling sound from directly behind the cat flap, and immediately his claws were out as he thrust his paw through the flap and sunk them into the nape of a furry body on the other side, yanking the culprit back inside to see who it was.</p><p>“Oh, confound it!” came his exasperated and relieved voice. Quaxo, confused, chanced a glance from behind the trunk, only to discover little Jemima being held up by the scruff of her neck with a guilty smile on her face. He rolled his eyes as he let out a sigh of relief, leaving his hiding spot to sit down next to Old Deuteronomy.</p><p>“Have you been eavesdropping, little one?” The old cat said in a gentle reproachful voice.</p><p>“No, I haven’t dropped any eaves!” she said with wide eyes, then, after a beat, “what are eaves?”</p><p>“Have you been listening to us talk?” Deuteronomy clarified. The guilt was clear on the small kitten’s face.</p><p>“Yeah,” she said sheepishly.</p><p>“For how long?”</p><p>“Um,” she said, and would have squirmed if she were not temporarily paralyzed by Deuteronomy’s grip on her scruff, “when I was at the ball I saw footsteps walking away but no one making them and I followed them here.”</p><p>“So you have heard everything and more,” Deuteronomy concluded.</p><p>“Um. Yeah.” Jemima said. The Jellicle Leader heaved a heavy sigh.</p><p>“I need you to promise me something, little one, and that is that you will not run away if I put you down. Do you promise?” He said.</p><p>“I promise,” the tiny kitten said solemnly. Her seriousness seemed strange in a kitten so small, but he could sense no deception in her words or in her eyes. With a nod Deuteronomy gently placed Jemima on the floor and she crouched submissively, warily looking between the two cats before her.</p><p>“Hi, Mister Mistoffelees,” she said with a nervous giggle. Quaxo nodded in a returned greeting.</p><p>“Quaxo,” he corrected.</p><p>“Mister Quaxo,” Jemima said, and he rolled his eyes.</p><p>“That brings up something else I needed to tell you, young Master Jones,” Deuteronomy said, “I am sorry to say it, but you are going to want to leave the name of Quaxo Jones behind you, as it can be too easily traced.” Quaxo once again only nodded, not looking up at the Jellicle Leader. The old cat turned toward the crouching kitten before him.</p><p>“What are you called, little one?” he asked her gently.</p><p>“Jemima,” she answered.</p><p>“Jemima, I can tell already that you are by nature a kindhearted—and perhaps a little too inquisitive—cat. Though I wish more than anything to send you back to your home, I am afraid that by being here tonight you have put yourself in danger. For your sake, I think it would be best if you went to <em>The Gumbie Cat’s Cradle</em> with Quaxo.” At that the young black cat quickly looked up at the cat beside him.</p><p>“Are you sure that is a good idea, Old Deuteronomy, sir?” He asked apprehensively.</p><p>“Yes, I am sure,” Deuteronomy said slowly, “even aside from the concern of her safety, I think it will be better for you not to be completely alone.”</p><p>The two young cats looked at each other, each one studying the other and processing everything that had taken place.</p><p>“It was incredibly improper for you to have listened to our conversations, Jemima,” Quaxo said, “I ought to turn you into a spotted toad to teach you a lesson!”</p><p>“What was that you were saying earlier about not turning evil, young Master Jones?” Old Deuteronomy asked, amusement clear in his voice. Quaxo’s ears and nose turned bright red and he shrunk down sheepishly, Jemima watching him with a smug look that seemed unfitting for her innocent face.</p><p>***</p><p>Quaxo gazed longingly at <em>The Meow Club</em> sign above Bustopher Jones’ door, spending one last precious moment bathed in its familiar yellow glow. He had no idea whether he would be able to see it again. He had no idea if he would be able to see Bustopher again. He had no idea if he really would be able to find the Russel Hotel, though he hoped his guess was good enough to get him there. Just a few hours ago everything in his world had seemed so clear and bright, and now it had all been destroyed, leaving him stumbling in the dark.</p><p>A slight spark of electricity itched at his ear, and Quaxo shook his head to force himself out of his thoughts before scratching the sensation away. He could <em>not </em>use any magic, that much was clear, and that meant that he could <em>not</em> spend too much time dwelling on the situation or he would risk losing control of his power in his upset. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, willing himself to calm down. With his tail proudly perpendicular he turned away from the loving yellow light towards Jemima who was waiting for him, and together they walked off into the mist in somber silence.</p>
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